 “When a woman first
meets the horse, she feels fear and awe,
respect and caution,
excitement and
reserve. She
reaches out to stroke the horse’s side and remembers
the first touch of a lover’s hand.
The soothing warmth of connecting to
another
spirit with its own power, and its own passion
washes over her.
She runs her fingers through the horse’s mane
and looks into his eyes, finding there a companion
who says “Let’s go places together. Everything is
better with me.” As she strokes the velvet muzzle,
he licks her fingers and softens his gaze, lowering
his head and extending himself to her in a way that
makes her heart swell and race at the same time…”
-
She Flies Without Wings,
Mary D. Midkiff
|
